


Evermind

by ALadyofRohan



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Lord of the Rings, Multi, Post War of the Ring, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:16:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALadyofRohan/pseuds/ALadyofRohan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the account of the century after the death of Aragorn, King of Gondor. Looking into the life of the King of Rohan and his family as they struggle through the unthinkable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**_Preface:_ **

_Edoras in the year 239 of the Fourth Age was not much different from the time of Èomer King. Nearly 116 years after the death of Elessar, Gondor and Rohan have only strengthened their alliances and close kinship._

_The peoples of Rohan have kept prosperous during the reign of King Elfwine (63 F.A-82 F.A) and continuing on into the rule of his third son Eòfan I, who in turn left the kingdom to grow and flourish during his rule (82 F.A-145 F.A). After the death of the beloved King, his only son Eámon came into rule. During his time, the Wild Men attacks had almost come to a halt, and the savages were driven South of Gondor into Harad. It wasn't until the death of the King (182 F.A) that Corsairs from Umbar began to raid and waste their lands again-who had begun to gather strength once more when the news of the death of Elessar had reached their ears-joining with Haradrim-Wild Men forces to try and destroy the strong blood-line of Èomer. Eòfan I had led an excursion to drive out the main company of Haradrim-Corsair in the Eastfold when his entire band was obliterated, leaving the Kingdom of invaded Rohan to his, then 16-year-old son, Edmìr in the year 192 F.A._

_King Edmìr the Young had proven himself just as strong as his forefathers, and had driven the Haradrim-Wild Men armies out of both Rohan and Gondor within a matter of two years. Eventually, in 201 F.A, Edmìr obliterated an entire battalion of Corsairs, pushing them back to Umbar. There they remained in the quiet. In the years afterwards, he took the Lady Thrissen of Belfalas as his bride in the year 209 F.A. Together, they bore Prince Eòfan II in the winter of 211 F.A, and Princess Triswyn during the spring of 221 F.A; living in a time of peace and prosperity…_

* * *

 

**Chapter 1**

Edmìr, son of Eámon, Lord of the Riddermark and King of Rohan sat on his large wooden throne. His meaty hands thumped the wooden horses-serving as arm rests-in his boredom. He stroked his golden beard, which was cleanly shaven and trimmed.

Five of his close advisors surrounded both of the sides of the throne, droning about expenses and restoration of a village that accidentally burned down somewhere in the Westfold. He only pretended to listen, already anticipating the outcome of such an event. He pulled slightly at his dark under-tunic; the heat in Meduseld was constricting, or was it just him? His bronzed crown felt heavy, and the horses that were melded into it seemed to come to life in his head, pounding their hooves like a heavy thunderstorm. But he never revealed his discomfort.

The King's dark evergreen eyes stared intently at the door; an underlying concern wreathed his pupils, but it was disguised by his unusually kind gaze. His ears tuned in, trying to listen to the sound of the outside, which waited beyond the large wooden doors of the Golden Hall.

Finally, Edmìr's ear twitched with the sound of light footsteps going up stone stairs, followed by two lighter steps, and the heavy thud of leather boots. The King sat up, the first movement he'd made in over an hour. This had caught the attention of his personal guard, and they stood at attention, grabbing the hilts of their swords.

"My Lord?" One of his councilman-Trinian, the Queen's brother-turned to the King.

Edmìr put his large fore-finger to his pale lips, and the hall was silent.

After a long moment of white noise, the large wooden doors opened slowly. Two guards came forth, and behind then a tall woman in deep blue robes-lined with silver and lighter tones of blue-strode forth, tugging a small child alongside her. Both mother and child had dark red-orange hair that shimmered in the torchlight.

Queen Thrissen brought along an air of anger with her as she walked into the hall, her temper had obviously been flared way before she entered, and her bright blue eyes pierced the hearts of the councilmen so that they cringed, and they could not meet her gaze.

Their son, Eòfan, stood close behind his mother, bearing a smug look towards his sister, trying not to laugh at her utter ridiculousness. His blond hair went to his shoulder, shining in the light like Golden Fleece. Even at the age of fifteen, he had the bearings of a great warrior and slight stubble had begun to grow around his chin.

Edmìr was relieved to see his daughter, even if she was the victim of her mother's temper. The Princess had been missing for hours, and the King was just happy to see she was safe. Edmìr stood up to his full height, a full foot above the rest, just as his forefathers before him.

He tried not to smile as he walked to his family, noticing his daughter's disheveled hair tangling around her head like a nest, and her dirt ridden face, covering her light freckles and shy smile. Her tiny thumb was placed firmly in her mouth, and she stared up at her father as he came up to her mother.

"And what was our little Princess doing out of bed?" He knelt down, still taller than his five-year-old daughter as he went on his knees. His kind eyes softened when she stared at him with equally green eyes, shrugging as her answer to his question.

Queen Thrissen shot at her husband, "She was outside the wall, again."

Offsetting his wife's flaring temper, Edmìr looked upon his daughter kindly, "Triswyn, you should know that you should not go anywhere without your mother."

The Princess nodded, still sucking on her thumb.

"She was playing amongst the graves, Edmìr." Thrissen scolded, "And when I asked why, she told me she wanted to see the Man again."

Edmìr was unnerved, but didn't show it, he cleared his throat and looked at Triswyn, "Now, Princess, what has Mother said about strangers?"

His daughter took her thumb out of her mouth, "That they must befriend you before they befriend me." Triswyn said quietly.

"Aye," Edmìr nodded, "So why did you disobey?"

Triswyn put her thumb back in her mouth and shrugged.

Thrissen sighed furiously, "This is the fourth time this past week, Edmìr." She pointed out.

"I'm aware." Edmìr said.

He then looked at his son, "Eòfan, lad. Take your sister to her room, and make sure she stays in bed." He said gently.

"Yes, Papa." Eòfan bowed, and then took his sister's tiny hand.

Triswyn took her thumb out of her mouth as they walked, "Eòfan," She stared, "Tell me the story about the Hobbits again."

Their voices echoed lightly and inaudibly as they left the hall.

Thrissen stared at her husband, eyes still fiery with anger. But Edmìr spoke before she did, "My, love." He stood up and took her delicate shoulders, admiring her beautiful flushed face, and rosy cheeks, "Go to our chambers and run yourself a bath. I won't be long."

His Queen sighed, staring at her husband with her deep blue eyes, and then she turned around and didn't speak another word as she walked away from the hall, leaving a path of anger and frustration in her wake.

* * *

 

A few hours later, once all of the affairs in the Westfold were arranged, Edmìr retired quietly to his chambers.

Thrissen sat on their bed, weaving her fingers in her long red hair. Her plump pink lips were set in a firm line and she avoided her husband's gaze.

"It seems I have neglected to ask you of your day." Edmìr brought his maroon velvet tunic over his head, leaving just the black under tunic. He sat before his wife's covered feet and looked upon her with a loving gaze.

The Queen finally looked at her husband, instantly softened by his tender tone, and the feel of his surprisingly gentle hands under the covers as they rubbed her thin legs. She began to reveal a rare smile, one she only ever let Edmìr see.

"There's my lovely Thriss." Edmìr said gently, "Now, tell me of the events that transpired with our little rebel today."

He stood up to change into his night clothes, listening intently to his wife as she ranted.

"I just don't know what to think any more about her," Thrissen began, still brushing her hair with her fingers, "This isn't normal for a child to want to explore tombs. And the fact that she tells me every time I catch her-which probably doesn't amount to the actual number of times she's been out there-she tells me of a man that stands by one of the graves, just standing. And she feels compelled to help him. Her words not mine." She sighed for the millionth time that day.

"Well," Edmìr lay down beside Thrissen, "It seems to me that she just has a child's curiosity, and imagination, at that. A child's curiosity is an untamable thing, best let it flourish now then later." He climbed under the covers, "Eventually, she'll grow out of it, and become the most beautiful and charming Princess in all of Middle Earth."

"I do hope you're right." Thrissen looked at her husband with worried eyes, "I'm afraid she'll turn out like you."

"Is that so?" Edmìr asked, raising his brow.

"Oh indeed." Thrissen lay herself down as if to sleep.

Edmìr nodded slowly, and then swiftly burrowed under the blankets to tickle his wife's stomach with his lips.

"Edmìr!" Thrissen giggled uncontrollably.

He climbed on top of her, "If she turns out like me, then we'll at least know she'll make her husband a happy man." He bent to kiss his wife's neck.

"You are a dirty man Edmìr, Eámon's son." Thrissen chuckled, "A dirty man indeed."

* * *

 

"Eòfan," Little Princess Triswyn yawned, still trying to stay up to listen to her brother tell her stories, "Tell me again about the dwarves in Erebor. And how Smaug's scales glistened like they themselves were made of fire and gold." She pulled the covers close to her chest, looking up at her older brother.

Eòfan chuckled, "Tris, you already know that one from the first word to the last." He kissed her cheek, "Now it's time for bed, before mother kills us both."

"She won't." Triswyn argued, sitting up and jumping on her brother's back, "I'll fight her off." Then she got on all fours and jumped on the floor, bearing her pearly white teeth, "I'm a Warg, I'll protect you, Eòfan." Then she growled.

Eòfan burst out laughing, his sister was a trouble-maker, but her cute looks always softened every punishment given. Then he shook his head and picked her up. He set her gently under her blankets, embroidered in red horses running across a black field.

"Now, Tris," Eòfan brushed her hair out of her newly washed face, "Go to sleep tonight, and I promise I will tell you about the Lady Galadriel."

Triswyn pouted, "That's a girly story."

Eòfan sighed, "Then I will tell you about Lady Èowyn. That you haven't heard before."

"What did she do?" Triswyn's curiosity piqued.

"That's for tomorrow, dear sister." Eòfan smiled gently. His face was full of the gentleness that his father held.

Triswyn yawned again, and her evergreen eyes fluttered, "I suppose."

"Good." Eòfan kissed her forehead, "Now sleep, Triswyn. And dream of the bright green grasses of the Shire. I will be waiting for you at the river, and we'll go to the sea to watch the last of the elves go out to the Undying Lands."

The Princess only nodded, and drifted into a peaceful sleep, dreaming exactly what her brother had told her.


	2. Chapter Two

****

Small petals of Simbelmynë floated in the summer breeze around Edoras. The sea of grass waved around the grave mounds of the Kings of Rohan. Curling her fingers in the soft green grass atop the tomb of King Èomer Èadig, Princess Triswyn smiled with contentment. The sun was just coming up, and started burning her already golden skin delightfully. She lay on her back with her eyes closed; red hair flying every which way in the morning breeze. The dew stuck to her skin, sticky and cold; and the aroma of flower and grass encased her.

Edoras loomed behind her as she tangled with the grass. She'd been there since the wee hours of the morning, hoping to see Him again.

Triswyn set her slender hands over her stomach. Her fingers fumbled with the leather strips that tied her tawny vest together, which was set over a cream colored V-neck blouse. The tightness of the vest had accentuated her newly developed curves and bosom. She'd stolen a pair of light trousers from her brother, specifically for her outdoor adventures.

A light yellow butterfly set itself on the Princess' nose. Triswyn opened her eyes, crossing them to focus on the little creature. She smiled broadly behind creamy pink lips, and her evergreen eyes danced as they followed the butterfly when it took flight once more.

Triswyn was about to close her eyes again, when she suddenly heard the crow of a rooster. She shot up, running as fast as she could to the wall around Edoras.

"Damnation." She muttered.

Going around to the far side, which was seated right behind the hill of Meduseld, Triswyn jumped onto the wall. She set her slipper-covered feet in small divots she'd carved into the side over the years, and she climbed swiftly and quietly.

When she reached the top, she rested for a moment, exhaling heavily.

"Holy love of the Mearas." She sighed deeply, letting her breath catch up with her.

Then Triswyn swung her leg over the top of the wall, settling on a very thin ledge. After swinging the other leg over and balancing expertly, Triswyn extended her left foot down. She became level once more when she lowered onto another ledge. Slowly scaling down, Triswyn was able to jump onto the ground.

She steadied herself, and then took off ascending the hill to Meduseld. About halfway up, Triswyn heard the noise she was dreading; her mother.

"Triswyn!"

Triswyn's eyes widened, and she ran even faster. When she reached the top, she shimmied along the bottom part of the building to the left side. Adeptly, she climbed along the walls of the home, and she found the opened part of the window she'd originally climbed out of. Pulling herself up, Triswyn lost her balance and fell through the window and landed on her bum. Ungracefully, she dusted herself off, jumped up, and ran down the hallway towards the bed chambers.

Only two rooms were seated in the back hallway, Triswyn's room on the left, and Eòfan's room on the right. The Prince had been away on business in Southern Ithilien, which was part of the reason Triswyn knew her mother would be looking for her so early in the morning. Eòfan was returning, and not just with the Rohirrim…

Triswyn shut her door quickly, then turned around to face her room. Her eyes darkened with the thought of who her brother was bringing home with him: Prince Arandír of Ithilien. His name rolled around in her brain like a deathly poison. Just the thought of the sleazy Prince made Triswyn want to hit something. She never trusted him, ever. It seemed that she was the only one in the family of the King that saw Arandír for who he was; a right royal prick with a silver tongue.

Suddenly remembering her tempest mother; Triswyn bolted across her room like lightning, right to her wardrobe. Looking through different clothes and picking grass out of her hair at the same time, Triswyn listened intently for any footsteps coming down the hallway. She shuffled through her house dresses and skirts, picking out a cream colored long skirt. Quickly, she swapped her pant-wear for the skirt, tucking the top of it under her vest.

She ran over to her wooden vanity and took her horse-hair brush, trying her best to detangle her thick and frizzy red hair. Her scalp felt raw, and hurt from the intense brushing she was doing, but at the sound of quick footsteps finally coming down the hallway, Triswyn didn't care.

A Simbelmynë flower fell from her right as the door to her room swung open, revealing a livid Queen Thrissen. Triswyn stood at attention, covering the flower with her foot.

"Godne mergen, modor." She said innocently.

Thrissen looked at her daughter suspiciously, her red face slowly returning to its normal snow pale complexion, "I came here earlier and you weren't here." She stated, "Where were you?"

Triswyn's stomach dropped, quickly, she devised a lie, "I thought I heard something."

Her mother looked at her hard, "Something?"

"Giese." Triswyn nodded.

"And exactly what is that 'something'?" Thrissen asked, visibly not amused.

Triswyn looked at her brush, pulling at the little red strands that had been pulled into it, "I'm not quite sure…so I went outside to look for where it was…"

"Whatever, Triswyn." Thrissen interrupted her daughter, holding her hand to her forehead, "I'm tired of your excuses for today, just please be down in the Hall, we have guests today to prepare for. I would very much appreciate it if you didn't look like..." She looked at her unkempt daughter, "Like a ruffian." And she turned and left without closing the door; a sigh was audible from the Queen as she went down the hallway.

Triswyn frowned, and her eyes darkened, her mother's words echoing in her head as she sadly pulled her hair back with a leather strip.

Queen Thrissen stood in the center of Meduseld, barking orders at anyone and everyone who happened to walk by her at any point in time. Her hair was every which way, and stress lined her seemingly perfect face. Dark circles found themselves under her bright blue eyes, and the Queen huffed in frustration when the group she had assembled in order to play music for Eòfan's return hadn't arrived yet. Triswyn arrived in time for the Queen to explode on one poor servant girl who only had just walked by with the wrong color of table cloth.

Triswyn stood wide eyed, trying to avoid her mother at all costs. She wrung her hands with her skirt in nervousness. For the next few hours, her mother was going to be more tyrannical than she already was, and Triswyn wanted nothing to do with it.

"Princess?"

Triswyn looked to her left, and noticed another servant, looking sheepish as he went to address his Lady. He was holding a parchment, presumably a checklist. Triswyn smiled at him warmly, and took the parchment.

It was a simple checklist of the beginning course of meal that the Queen wanted specific for the Prince's return, only a few items were missing.

Triswyn looked at the servant again, "Is it Féold?" She inquired of the servant's name.

"Yes, my Lady." He said shyly, averting his dark eyes from the Princess' gaze.

Triswyn pointed her slender finger to an item on the list, "Just substitute it for butter and this for goat. It really doesn't make a difference, my mother won't care."

At the same time, they both heard the Queen screech over broken candles. Triswyn flinched at the banshee-like noise, then shook her head as she handed the list over to Féold.

"Trust me on this one." She winked, then smiled again.

"Yes, my Lady." Féold took the list and shuffled away before the Queen could see him.

"Triswyn!" The Queen screamed for her daughter.

"Coming, mother." Triswyn rolled her eyes.

The Princess walked over to her mother, looking at a mess of broken chandelier candles and spilt mead. Taking a deep breath, Triswyn grabbed her mother by her shoulders-which were incredibly tight with stress-and brought her over to sit down. Triswyn looked to a maid and told her to get some water for her mother, and the Princess walked over to the large mess that had been created.

"Alright," She sighed, "You," She pointed to a couple of idle servants, "I want all of these candles picked up, wiped off, and brought back down to the wax room, bring back up the ones that are more cream colored, they'll do for now." Triswyn ordered, "I want all of this wasted mead cleaned up right now, and I want the floors to be pristine by the end of this hour. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Princess." The workers chorused, setting right to work.

"Ic ðoncie ðe." Triswyn smiled sweetly.

She turned around to her mother, who was sipping on her water, eyeing the floor with strained eyes, which were lined with red from lack of sleep. Triswyn felt a small amount of pity for the Queen. She walked over to her mother, kneeling down to look Thrissen in the eye.

"Georne." Triswyn said smartly.

"It's going to be ruined." Thrissen said wildly, "Everything for my baby boy is ruined." She pointed around the already beautifully adorned room, "ðæt nis god genog."

"Modor." Triswyn tried to console her mother.

"Your father will be so upset." Thrissen started to tear up.

"No he won't." Triswyn rolled her eyes at her mother's ridiculousness, "Come on," She picked her mother up, pulling her onto her feet. "Let's just start by fixing that mess of a hair you created."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Translations: In order of appearance
> 
> -Good morning, mother
> 
> -Yes
> 
> -Thank you
> 
> -You're welcome
> 
> -That is not good enough


	3. Chapter Three

****

Princess Triswyn set her chin in her palm and sighed. She was utterly miserable. Her cream colored over dress itched at her neck, the golden horse embroidery scratched at the exposed skin of her wrists and collarbone, and the waist was tight enough to almost choke the breath right from her. Triswyn's unruly hair had been pulled back into a bun that was worthy of a headache, and her mother insisted that the Princess wear her delicate copper circlet, which wrapped around Triswyn's forehead ending in two horses making a heart shape, enclosing a beautiful peridot.

To make matters worse, Triswyn's entire face felt caked by the makeup her mother applied. Her face wasn't the burnt and freckled face that Triswyn could tolerate in the mirror, but it was smoothed over with a paste that made her skin look flawless. Triswyn hated it. That and the lip brush that Thrissen had abused her daughter's lips with, which were now a rosy pink, instead of their normal pale color.

The Princess sighed again, "It's all the rage in Minas Tirith." She mocked her mother, "Now you look respectable." Triswyn crossed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks while she spoke, standing up to point at the wall, as if she were a nagging mother, "It's a wonder how people didn't mistake you for the common rabble before."

She laid her arms out the window and her head fell into the cushion of her forearms. "Common rabble, I'd rather be so."

The sun's warmth began to wane as it moved into the other part of the countryside. From her window, Triswyn looked out to catch a small glimpse of the burial mounds, where she had only just been that morning.

Her eyes widened, then she squinted them to get a better look at one of the mounds. A glimmer of feint golden light started to glow. It flashed white three times, then went back into the tomb from which it had originally burst forth.

"Three." Triswyn told herself, "Why three?"

Checking behind her, Triswyn concluded that it was safe to climb through her own window. There was no need to shimmy across the length of Meduseld, so Triswyn landed in the dirt and made her way slowly down the hill to the wall. She pressed her ear to the wood, listening intently.

"I can't stay long." She whispered softly to the wall, she could feel His presence behind the thick wood, "I looked for you this morning. But you weren't there."

The Princess stood there in silence for a moment or so, looking back behind her every now and again, making sure that no one had seen what she was doing.

"I know."

Triswyn snapped her head back, looking at the wooden wall with wide eyes. The voice that had spoken was hard, but not without kindness. Triswyn's body felt cold when she pressed up against the wood which separated her and the stranger on the other side.

"Where were you?" Triswyn asked in a hushed tone.

There was no answer for a moment, the silence was beginning to irritate the Princess, she knew her mother would be coming for her soon, and her brother would be arriving any moment.

"The others." The voice said as if he was telling her a secret, but also blatantly ignoring her question, "They told me something is coming."

"Something?" Triswyn asked, her curiosity won over her fear of her mother.

"We cannot say, but it is nearing. We wish for you to keep watch for yourself." He told the Princess, "Sometimes, good people get hurt, for the price of one's greed."

Triswyn became aggravated once more, "What are you talking about?"

"None of us know what is going on above the ground that covers us; all we know is that something is amiss. You are the only one in Rohan that can see me, so you must heed this warning with great caution. Do you understand, Princess?" He snapped. Instantly, he could feel the fear he instilled into the girl, and he spoke again, with renewed gentleness, "You are family still, Triswyn daughter of Edmìr, and we all only wish for the protection of the line of Kings. Now go."

Triswyn backed up slowly, the cold that emanated from the stranger had made the paste on her face feel heavy on her cheeks and chin, and the shock of what just happened had almost stopped her heart. But nonetheless, Triswyn backed up, not looking away from the wall. She ascended backwards, still staring at the wall which confined her from the outside world.

The words of the Man rang in Triswyn's head; she was lost in thought about what he could have been warning her about. It was all so confusing to her. How could danger be coming? Her father has kept Rohan at peace for years. Surly it could just be a misunderstanding…

"Triswyn." The Queen snapped, bringing her daughter out of her dream state, "Stand upright."

Defiantly, Triswyn clenched her fists and dramatically stomped her feet as she stood straight.

Edmìr only chuckled, he stood between the two, waiting for the doors of Meduseld to open for his guests.

Guards lined the walls of the Golden Hall, hidden in the shadows as not to scare the incoming guests, a lush red carpet laid from the door to Edmìr's throne, iron wrought chandeliers held cream colored candles that smelled of honey and brightly lit the hall beautifully, and a summer night breeze flowed in from the outside world. Tables with cream cloths were neatly lined in the room, decorated with lavish center pieces consisting of scarlet geraniums, snapdragons, dahlias, bloody warriors, baby's breath, and nasturtiums, at the bottom of each flower arrangement, sticks of cinnamon were laid. The hall blazed with a decorative fire, thanks to Queen Thrissen.

Edmìr leaned close to his wife, "It looks beautiful, leof." He kissed her pale cheek.

Triswyn sighed and crossed her eyes in boredom. Some of the guards took notice, and tried not to smirk at her antics.

Finally, the doors to the Golden Hall opened, and in stepped a crowd of Rohirrim soldiers, each in sets of two, marching in slowly towards the King. Each soldier stepped to either side of the carpet and stood at attention. Triswyn smiled, all of these soldiers she knew from either childhood or introduction by Eòfan, and the Princess was beyond excited to see her brother stepping into the hall.

Triswyn couldn't help but beam when she saw her golden haired older brother walk in. His horse helmet was tucked under his shoulder, the armor of the Captain of the Rohirrim clanked as he strode in with a kingly presence. Once Eòfan saw his sister however, he couldn't help but smile. Now with a fully grown goatee-which was pointed, accentuating his young face-his smile was even more irresistible. Still the same laughing smile he had held through his youth. Eòfan didn't have the rounded face like his father, but more of the heart shape that his mother had, along with her blue eyes.

Eòfan walked through the wall of his soldiers, going right up to his family then turning to the door.

Triswyn's smile abated when she saw who else had accompanied her brother. In through the doors came Arandír Prince of Ithilien. The Princess' stomach turned into knots at the sight of this intruder in her home.

In truth, Arandír was a handsome young man. He was tall and broad shouldered, with a clean shaven face that would make any woman bend to his whim. His grey eyes showed mischief as well as discipline, and his smile held an unmatched charm. He ran his strong fingers through his chestnut hair with slight arrogance, and his own soldiers followed close behind him, all with the white tree of Gondor on their armor.

Arandír came up beside Eòfan and bowed to the King and Queen.

"King Edmìr, son of Eámon." Arandír said as he bowed.

Edmìr chuckled and clapped the young man on the shoulder, "Arandír son of Faendir," The King said joyously, "Too long has it been since the Prince of Ithilien came to my Hall."

"Not long enough." Triswyn muttered.

Ignoring the Princess, Arandír spoke, "And a grievous mistake on my part, my King. For it seems your lovely Queen has done an enchanting job at arranging our welcome ceremony."

"Eòfan's welcome ceremony." Triswyn whispered through her teeth.

Arandír went to kiss the Queen's hand, "Queen Thrissen of Rohan, a beauty surly not has surpassed yours since elves roamed Lothlórien."

Triswyn choked back a laugh, getting a smirk from Eòfan.

"Behave, little sister." Eòfan warned quietly, "You might scare him off."

"Good." Triswyn teased her brother.

"Welcumen!" Edmìr boomed, silencing the already quiet hall, "Honored guests from Gondor and brave soldiers of the Rohirrim. Please. Eat. Drink. Be merry. And may your stay here at Meduseld be a joyous one indeed."

Instantly, every soldier and members of Arandír's party sat their selves down, awaiting the feast Queen Thrissen has arranged. King Edmìr sat at the head of the King's feasting Table, with the Queen on his left, and his son on his right. Triswyn sat between her brother and Arandír, and directly across was her uncle Trinian. From every side of the hall, servants came out to set platters on the table. One could smell the roast goat from underneath the platter covers. Mouths watered, stomachs grumbled, but the soldiers waited for the King.

"Let the feast begin." Edmìr stated happily.

The covers were lifted. An entire assortment of food was revealed. Lamb with onion, beet, carrots, and gravy, pork with apples and cinnamon, red mashed potatoes, chicken covered in a dark vinegar laced in red ruby peppers, a breaded stuffing inside butter covered prairie hens, and above all, the large pieces of goat meat that melted into ones mouth covered in butter, steaming celery, potatoes, and homemade broth. Mead and ale poured in from random places whenever it was asked for. Men laughed at each other's dirty jokes. Every now and then, one of the King' hounds would sneak a bite from Triswyn's plate, while she ignored Arandír and Eòfan. Queen Thrissen conversed with her brother. Edmìr laughed at Arandír's comments. And everyone in the hall was happy. Except of course Triswyn.

The Princess had been sitting there amidst a dominant testosterone atmosphere, itching underneath her dress sleeves, smiled uncomfortably, shifting in her seat, all while picking small bites of whatever food wasn't completely destroyed. She was also utterly miserable with the person who had decided to sit next to her.

While Eòfan talked to his parents, Arandír seized the chance to talk to the Princess.

"Princess." He said coolly, his voice a velvety alto.

"My Lord." Triswyn avoided his gaze.

"Has anyone ever told you how your beauty burns one like cold iron?" Arandír asked, smartly and smoothly.

Triswyn's stomach knotted up again, and she set her fork down, "And do you tell this to all the women you bed?"

"Only the ugly ones." Arandír answered.

"Then I suppose all of them are as stupid as I thought." Triswyn spat.

"Oh, you really shouldn't talk about your mother like that." Arandír said, looking back at the Princess, raising his brow with triumph.

Triswyn's eyes flamed, "How dare you, you insufferable…"

"Pig?" Arandír answered for the Princess.

"Yes." Triswyn growled, taking a piece of the pig that was before her and crammed it into Arandír's face.

Chunks of meat fell from the Prince's face; the glaze drooped down his nose and cheeks when Queen Thrissen took notice. The Queen stood up and ran over, catching the attention of everyone in the Hall. It was quiet, save the doting that the Queen gave Arandír.

"Tris, what did you do?" Eòfan asked his little sister, who was still beat red from anger, even with the face paste on.

"I gave him what he deserves." The Princess stood up from her seat. Everyone watched her storm off into the back hallways where her room was.

The Hall was quiet, Edmìr's eyes were wide, but his mood changed quickly. "What the Hell are you doing? Sitting there all quiet. I said eat. So eat!" The King said angrily.

Even the Queen was taken aback by this newfound anger, so everyone did as he said and went back to their previous conversation. Edmìr stood up and walked over to his Queen.

"Sit." He said to her, commanding but gently.

The King looked at Arandír, "My most heartfelt apologies for the way my daughter has behaved this evening."

"It's no trouble at all, my King." Arandír laughed good-heartedly, "The girl just has a fire in her."

"That we know." Eòfan stood up, "I'm going to go talk to her."

Arandír was already up, "No need, my friend. I'll just have a chat with her and this will all blow over in but a moment. This is your party after all, don't trouble yourself." He smiled.

Edmìr consented, so Eòfan had to agree. Both sat down, watching Arandír go into the back halls, where the Princess lay fuming.

* * *

Triswyn set about her room; no longer could she take this insufferable behavior. No one could see what she saw in Arandír, and it made her sick. She knew there was to be hell to pay, from both her parents, and maybe even Eòfan.

The Princess tore off her dress; she couldn't stand its constricting fabric. Rummaging through her chest of drawers, she slipped on a pair of her brother's riding pants, dark brown and slimming. Then she put on a light cream blouse, securing it to her body with an olive colored bodice. Over her pants, she pulled on deep maroon boots, then pulled brown fur leg warmers over them. Over her entire outfit, she secured an olive green and brown jerkin. Her hair was still up in the bun and circlet when her door opened.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Arandír stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Triswyn narrowed her eyes, stepping over to her wardrobe closet, "Getting as far away from you as possible."

"And running away from all you know and love will solve that?" Arandír asked.

The Princess searched the back of her wardrobe, grabbing a small one handed swords in its leather sheath. While securing it to her belt, Arandír stepped forward, grabbing both of her hands.

"In no way will this solve anything that you have against me." He said.

"I never said I was running away." Triswyn answered.

"Then what are you doing?" Arandír asked, still holding her hands, getting ever so close to Triswyn.

For a moment, the world was at a standstill. Triswyn and Arandír locked eyes. There was a flicker of softness in the Prince's eyes as he searched deep into the evergreen orbs of the Princess. His grip on her hands lessened ever so slightly, and a there was a small movement in the pit of his stomach. Triswyn felt as if she couldn't answer him, even though she had plenty of remarks she thought up in her head.

Within a matter of seconds, their mood changed drastically. Triswyn broke eye contact to look past her opened door. Screams resounded from the Golden Hall. There was yelling and sword clashing.

"What in the…" Arandír turned to look.

There was suddenly a large explosion. The roof to Triswyn's room began to collapse. Arandír grabbed the Princess in his strong arms and tackled her to the ground. Wooden beams and horsehair from the insulation fell all around. One beam hit Arandír right in the back and head, knocking the wind right from him and rendering him unconscious. Horsehair and splintered wood had exploded everywhere. Triswyn's mirror shattered and her torn clothes fell from the air onto the floor. Triswyn tried moving from under the Prince, but her struggle was cut short when she heard voices coming from above. She froze.

"I know the Princess came this way."

'Uncle Trinian?' Triswyn thought to herself. She was about to call out for him until she heard another voice, more gruff and full of hate.

"No matter. She'll be dead no matter what. It's the King and Prince we're worried about."

"Yes." Trinian agreed, "Once Edmìr and his son are dead then my sister will have no choice but to allow me to become King."

Triswyn managed to bring a hand over her mouth, stifling any cry that she knew she would have issued. Her entire world seemed to be tearing apart from the seams that her father had sewn. She now knew that peace in Rohan was but a distant memory.

"Can you be sure?" A different man asked.

"Of course," Trinian said pompously, "My sister is too delicate to handle such a position, and Triswyn, she is either dead or gone." Trinian stated, "And even if the Princess lives, she'll have no choice but to choose conformity or death."

The voices of other men, barbaric in tone, came down the hallway.

"Lord Trinian," A man said, seemingly elderly judging by his tone of voice, "Prince Eòfan and the Rohirrim have built up a resistance in the town."

Trinian exploded, "Then what the hell are you morons doing here! Go!" His deep blue eyes flashed.

Thundering footsteps travelled down the hallway. Trinian sighed in aggravation and ran his hand through his gingery hair.

"Just make sure that Rohan is mine by the time the night is done."

And they left.

Triswyn wasn't exactly sure how long she had waited to try and move once more. But when she did, she realized that Arandír would have to go with her. While she tried to wiggle around, she tried to watch the door. She managed to get her leg free and push with both arm and leg the beam that had fallen atop Arandír. Once that was off, she rolled the Prince over onto his back, stood up, and dusted all of the hay and horsehair that had fallen onto her. She finally noticed that a huge chunk of her wall was now gone. Her bed was completely gone, and her clothes were now everywhere. Her heart broke. Now she realized that her entire life was crumbled down into ashes. She held back her tears, still hoping that her father would be able to fix this.

She shook her head, bringing herself back to reality. Triswyn-using all of her might and adrenaline- heaved the unconscious Prince over her shoulder and neck. She then began to slowly limp her way to the door. She wasn't going to take a chance to slip out through the exploded wall, which was too risky. After surveying the empty hallway, Triswyn made her way past her brother's room and down into a four-way hall system. Taking the left, she carried Arandír to the farthest end of the hallway and set him down. She heaved deep breaths, already exhausted. She slunk down for a moment, knowing she was pressed for time.

To her right was a narrower hallway that led to the servants' quarters. She figured the easiest way to get to the stables was through there and out the back door, which was secluded from the eyes of the public. Triswyn had to take a risk that Trinian wouldn't have blocked that off with men. She stood up and bent over to pick Arandír up once more. She shuffled to the first door and jiggled it open with her free hand. Squishing both her and the Prince through the small door, Triswyn held for life onto the thin handrail that led down to the quarters. Sweat beaded down her forehead, apparently un-affecting to the paste that still remained on her face.

Once she reached the bottom, Triswyn prayed to every God she knew in existence that going this far was worth it.

The servants' quarters consisted of small beds in white sheets lining two sides of the long room. It was Spartan in style, and extremely stuffy and hazy. Not wasting any time, Triswyn set Arandír upon one of the beds, then turned and took a blanket from one of the beds, wrapped it around Arandír's arm, and tied it securely to him. She took a much thinner sheet, rolled it up and stuck it in her jerkin. Triswyn did this once more to another bed and before long picked Arandír back up to drag him to the door at the end of the room.

There was a weak groan from the floor.

Triswyn jumped in surprise, almost dropping Arandír. She leaned against the wall, finally noticing a person sitting upright in the corner of the room.

"Féold?" Triswyn asked, completely shocked.

The servant looked at the Princess, he was covered in his own blood, which seemed to spurt from a wound in his stomach. He smiled faintly.

Triswyn dropped Arandír and ran to the dying man.

"What happened?" She asked.

Féold coughed, then cracked open his lips, "The guards, on the walls. They jumped out and slaughtered a good part of the Rohirrim and the Gondorians. "He coughed again, holding his stomach with a bloody hand, "The Prince, he managed to get a lot of the people out. But the King; he held back. It all happened so fast. There was an explosion;" The servants' eyes went wide, "The Queen was injured, so the king gave her to Trinian. But Trinian," Féold's eyes became watery, "He stabbed the King in the leg." The servant pointed to the area where the major artery in the leg was, "The King, he made it to the Hall doors when Trinian ran him through the stomach."

Triswyn's heart stopped as she listened to the servant talk, her eyes glossed over as she tried to hold back her tears.

"But, Princess," Féold said suddenly, "You must get out of here, please." He grabbed her arm, "As of now you are our best chance of getting this news of betrayal to the King of Gondor."

"Come with me then," Triswyn begged the servant, "I can fix you once we're safe out of Edoras."

"No," Féold shook his head, "My time is done," He concluded, "Just get to Minas Tirith." He held her hand, placing something in it, "And if you can, bring this to a woman named Lesmira." He smiled.

"Of course." Triswyn said.

Féold gave one last cough before his head rolled to the side, signaling his death. Triswyn choked back her ears as she tried not to crumple the bloodied note in her hand. She stood up, running over to Arandír, holding back her breath as she lifted him up. As far as she knew, her entire family had been murdered, and this was no time to get emotional.

Once outside, the breeze did nothing to sooth Triswyn's broken heart. But she held her head up high. She slipped along the side of the servant's building to the back of the stables. She could hear the clashes of swords and the yelling of men as the Rohirrim tried to defend Edoras. Taking the back door, Triswyn pushed Arandír through, then shut the door behind her. She was taking a risk by possibly being seen by the large open barn door, but Triswyn needed to get to her horse, Milodan. She set Arandír down for a moment and raced over to unlock his stable. The large chocolate horse shook his vanilla mane once he saw his mistress.

"Come." Triswyn called him forward.

The horse obediently came forward so Triswyn could throw his saddle on at lightning speed. The explosions from the outside world had startled the horse, so he knew his Princess would want to leave as soon as possible. Triswyn threw the bit in his mouth and strapped his reins on, bringing him over to Arandír. The horse was a bit reluctant to let Triswyn put him on her back, but Milodan bent down to help his mistress hoist the unconscious Prince upon the horses back. Milodan stood up, trying to steady himself so Triswyn could get up behind Arandír.

Once she was up on her horse she held on to the reins for dear life, "Go, Milodan."

The urgency in her voice sent the horse at full speed.

Now outside, Triswyn could see a blazing inferno taking up almost half of Edoras by now. She heard the screaming of her people as they tried to flee the city. An entire army of Wild Men were set about, destroying and killing everything in their path. In the center of the city, Eòfan and a handful of his men were still fighting their way through. Eòfan happened to look up, catching his sister's eye. Relief fell over him as she sped forth through the city gates.

Triswyn held Arandír close to her as Milodan relentlessly drove himself forward into the countryside.

Once reaching a safe distance, Milodan stopped and Triswyn looked back. One small tear fell from her eyes as she heard her people screaming bloody murder, and her city burned.

Before they turned away once more, she caught a small glimpse of a white gold light, coming from the graves of her forefathers.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Triswyn charged Milodan as fast as she could, wanting to get away from Edoras as soon as possible. She could already feel her hair begin to frizz out in the intense   
summer wind as her horse ran at almost an impossible speed. She knew she was in West Emnet by now, how many hours she had been riding she didn’t know. Or was   
it even hours? Minutes? Had she even left Edoras? Was this a terrible dream?

  
It was slowly coming back to her now. She had spent all of that night finding a way across the Snowbourne. Once she had found a narrow enough passage, Milodan took great care in crossing being sure that his big hooves weren’t swept under him by the strong summer currents. Triswyn didn’t care if he messed up his footing.

  
As far as she was concerned it was better to let the river sweep them all away. Against her wishes, they made it across perfectly safe, as if the Gods were just looking down at her and jesting about what other miserable happening they wanted to put her through next. She watched the sun rise as they continued north. She really couldn’t say why they were going north only that it was the best option at the time in order to get away from Edoras. After all, her uncle would be expecting them to go South to Gondor, right?

  
On through the day they continued their long trek to nowhere. The north lands were dead. Abandoned by their inhabitants only shortly after King Elessar died. All of   
the elves, gone. The remainder of the Dunedain began to integrate into the society of Gondor. In fact it might have been Thrissen’s twin sister who married one of the last men with the blood of Numenor. Triswyn’s mind drifted off while the sun blazed. Her face was cooking under the heavy makeup her mother applied, it seemed as though the thick paste was resilient in the most annoying of ways.

  
Milodan came to an abrupt stop; he sensed his mistress’ confusion. Triswyn slid slowly off of her saddle, not caring what state Arandír was in at the moment. Milodan lowered himself to help balance the Prince and then gently sliding him out of the saddle so that the Prince lay cradled in the soft grass.

  
Triswyn fell to her knees, looking around her. Grass blew in the wind, the sea of dark green and moonlight brought a sense of brilliance to the countryside.

  
“What am I doing?” Triswyn asked herself, looking off in the distance.

  
Ragweed flew in the air, the Princess’ eyes watered, the evergreen light turned black.

  
She looked over at Arandír, “This is your fault,” she said quietly as she slunk over to him, “If you hadn’t have come then my family would still be alive.” Her dark eyes were watery with fresh tears and she looked upon Arandír with utter hatred, in a rage she slapped his face. Her action caused her to pound her fists on his hard chest. She cried while she beat upon the unconscious Prince, “Idel!” She cried. “Ierming...dóc...tóbregdan.” She beat harder and harder.

  
Her screams were muffled by the intense summer breeze rippling through the grasslands. She still hit his chest but not as hard while she muttered to herself and then gazing up at the sky, “Ic i sáre, fæder.” Triswyn slunk down into the grass, her shoulders shaking. She tried not to cry, bottling herself up in her own cocoon of  
despair. Halfheartedly she moved Arandír closer to the horse’s warm belly. She huddled up next to Milodan, taking the sheets and blankets she had stored, wrapping  
one around herself and the rest around Arandír. Holding her sword next to her and sitting upright against Milodan, Triswyn looked out into the night.

 

* * *

 

 

_“And it is said, dear sister, that the Elves who once walked freely around Middle Earth were rendered bodiless, in Valinor or not.” Eòfan said to Triswyn. The two_   
_were in the stables waiting for their father. Eòfan held a plum colored horse blanket as he leaned against an empty stall. He kept his ten-year-old sister busy with tales of the Elves, which he knew she secretly loved._

  
_Triswyn cocked her head, “But, Eòfan, that doesn’t make any sense,” She furrowed her brows, “Are you lying to me?” Her chapped lips pursed._

  
_“Of course not,” Eòfan laughed, “Uncle Drekion told me that the Elves will be consumed by their immortal self and linger for all time.”_

  
_“You can’t seriously believe Drekion,” Triswyn scoffed, “I refuse to believe that the Elves would go away like that, it’s too sad.” She pouted._

  
_“He’s the Steward of the King of Gondor, Trissy.” Eòfan said pointedly, “I doubt he takes such things lightly.”_

  
_“When did he tell you?” Triswyn asked with a raised brow._

  
_Eòfan thought for a moment, “Yesterday. While he and father took me hunting.”_

  
_Drekion was related to them by marriage. Their Aunt Thrinis was the twin of Thrissen, and hardly would they let the distance between Rohan and Osgiliath deter them from seeing each other. They had come especially to Rohan to visit Triswyn for her tenth birthday._

  
_“I don’t believe it.” Triswyn said._

  
_“Believe what?”_

  
_Edmìr sauntered in, dressed in his riding attire and a warm fur cloak draping over his broad shoulders._

  
_Triswyn immediately set to embracing him, “Am I getting my present now, fæder?”_

  
_“Hold your horses, Tris.” Edmìr laughed with a great booming sound, “You’ll get it yet. We have to wait for everyone else.”_

  
_Triswyn frowned, she hated waiting, especially for her mother who took forever doing anything._

  
_Eòfan smiled, “She doesn’t believe my tale on the fate of the Elves.”_

  
_“Is that so?” The King looked down at his daughter, “Was it what Drekion told you yesterday?”_

  
_“Yes.” Eòfan nodded._

  
_“Oh don’t believe anything that heaping pile of horse fodder says about the Elves.” Edmìr crinkled his nose, watching Triswyn laugh at his comment made his day all the more happier._

  
_Queen Thrissen walked in, covered in blue fur robes, Trinian wasn’t far behind his elder sister, “What’s so funny?” Thrissen asked._

  
_“Nothing, my wild strawberry.” Edmìr kissed her forehead, making her face blush all shades of pink and rosy red._

  
_Triswyn made a disgusted and over the top face when her parents kissed, her brother couldn’t help but chuckle to himself._

  
_It was another ten minutes before Drekion and Thrinis came into the stables. Thrinis’ soft grey eyes contrasted her twin sister’s hard blue ones. Their faces were similar other than the fact that Thrinis’ cheeks were more filled out and her soft brown hair was pulled up loosely. Her soft pale hands were set over her growing belly as Triswyn’s future cousin rolled around restlessly inside of her. Drekions dark eyes never left the pained face of his wife, he was lined with concern for both wife and child, his disheveled black hair gave away to the fact that he had gotten little sleep last night._

  
_“Sorry we’re late,” Thrinis said calmly and full of sweetness, “The baby was being quite restless.”_

  
_“No apologies needed, dear sister.” Thrissen smiled warmly._

 

* * *

 

  
Barely had the sun risen to gift the countryside with its warm light when Triswyn awoke. Her back ached terribly and her head pounded in a numbing rhythm. Tiredly, she searched her saddle bag. Triswyn pulled out strips of cloth (which she pulled apart during the night when she couldn’t sleep) and a small jar filled with yellowish ooze. Storing away the blankets, Triswyn began examining Arandír to see what damage was done. She felt foolish for not doing it sooner, but she reminded herself that she was on the run and then she didn’t feel so bad after that. She unlaced the side of his chest armor and set it neatly to her side. She opened up his blue tunic and his chest shined brightly. His chainmail was light, the kind only used for ceremonial occasions, so Triswyn doubted it helped protect against anything. Underneath she could see the beginnings of a small bloodstain on his quilted blue sleeves. Quickly, Triswyn tore off his black undershirt, which was soaked with sweat, and threw it to the side.

  
There was indeed quite a bit of blood, but when Triswyn wiped a small wet cloth across Arandír’s chest she saw that it only came from small cuts. The main problem was the bruising on his back. A thick line of purple and black crossed his entire torso from where the beam hit him. Triswyn wet another cloth and wiped away some blood. She smeared the yellow substance over the cuts and dressed his wounds. She went to the small stream and washed the blood and sweat out of Arandír’s shirt and placed it back over him, hoping the coolness of the water would help the bruising. She cursed herself for not paying attention to her mother when it came to medical practices.

  
She didn’t want to burden his chest even more, so she wrapped his chainmail up as best as she could and stored it. As for the chest armor, she was perplexed. She put his tunic back on, but then tied the armor to him with light knots. She again reminded herself that this man wasn’t going to feel anything until he woke up (whenever that was going to be) and she decided not to worry about it at the present time.

  
With a huff, Triswyn set Arandír back upon Milodan and continue their journey. Her uneasy sleep made her more aware of the direction in which she was going. She began talking to Milodan.

  
“If we go west we are bound to hit Helm’s Deep,” She said thoughtfully, “Perhaps I can go there to rally my father’s troops and prepare to retake home.” She looked at her horse’s head which shook with defiance “No?” Triswyn became irritated, “Then perhaps we’ll go east and then southwards towards Minas Tirith.” Again Milodan shook his great mane.

  
Triswyn huffed angrily and grabbed the reins tightly, “We’ll do both then.” She tried to steer Milodan to her left, but the great horse wouldn’t budge. The Princess furrowed her brow, “Milodan if you do not listen to me now I’ll walk.”

  
The horse knew she wouldn’t likely abandon him so he kept on his path northwards.

  
“Stubborn horse.” Triswyn muttered as she attempted still to pull the reins to her left, “We need to do something,” She pleaded, “My father would…”

  
Milodan set off at a hard gallop. Triswyns head bobbed up and down and she held on tightly to the reins and Arandír. On through the morning Milodan kept at a steady gallop, waiting for the sun to hit three hours past noon until he stopped to rest. All the while Triswyn screamed profanity and cursed the horse for disobeying her. He settled down into a steady trot, his flanks burning and sweating in the developing heat.

  
“Ierming…” Triswyn muttered to herself as she climbed down and moved Arandír onto the soft grass next to a large boulder with smaller rocks around it.

  
“I guess we’ll just stop here.” She then said exhaustedly. Her inner thighs and groin hurt badly from the saddle, she wouldn’t be surprised if blisters showed up soon.

  
Rohan was full of streams and rivers and this such place was no exception. Around the circle of rocks was a small stream that Milodan politely sipped from. Behind  
the boulders was a much larger body of water, wide enough to be a river and deep enough to stand in up to your shoulders (if you were Triswyn).

  
The Princess took long gulps of crystal cold water and looked up to the sky. Almost three or four hours until dusk. She decided to do a small reconnaissance around the area to be safe.

  
“You stay.” She told Milodan, but the horse wouldn’t hear of it. He whined and complained in a horses way until she turned around, “Milodan we can’t leave him alone.”

  
Milodan nickered, ‘Yes we can.’ He seemed to say.

  
“No.” Triswyn said, stomping her foot.

  
‘Yes.’ Milodan pawed at the ground, mimicking her.

  
Triswyn shook her head incredulously, laughing lightly at her horse, “I guess that’s alright.” She looked at Arandír, reminding herself that she had absolutely no love for him whatsoever.

  
She made her decision. Before she left she made sure to dress his wounds again and situate him, comfortably hidden enough to be out of anyone’s sight.

  
Up until the sun started to set Triswyn and Milodan surveyed the 2 or 3 mile radius that surrounded their little camp. Triswyn determined that she would have to stretch out a little farther so she set her horse off in a gallop a few more yards ahead. She could see that northwards began to get marshy, not that she planned on going that way in the first place. To the west was more open field, grass wavering in the wind and singing out to her.

  
“Helm’s Deep is that way.” Triswyn told herself. She took a tight hold on the reins again and went a few miles westward. Still more grassland.

  
“Seems promising doesn’t it, Milodan?” She asked.

  
The great horse shook its mane in protest.

  
“Whatever,” Triswyn sighed, “We both have to go there, whether we like it or not.”

  
The Princess turned back around and rode back to her campsite as the grass sang behind her.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Edoras was quiet. Almost too quiet. No one dared go out in the streets, and no one dared to come out of their charred homes. The fear and filth reeked, and in the shadows women would try to lay their children down in the remaining hay so that they could try to hide from whatever did come out of the doors of Meduseld.

Four Corsairs and four Wild Men were stationed at the doors of the Hall, bickering about a piece of dog meat. The Corsairs outweighed the Wild Men and were looking for a fight, but when the doors opened they were silent and still.

Their Captain stood in the entryway, now barking orders for them to go down to the main gates and make sure they were locked tight.

The Captain went back into the Hall, slamming the doors. Inside was a major contrast of the outside.

Rowdy men fell over each other in a drunken stupor. The smell of sour mead and waste filled the constricting room, but it was how the Corsairs made themselves at home. In the corner to the Captain's right, two men fought over a blonde haired maid, ripping at her dress and exposing her young breasts. They kept laughing while they tossed her back and forth.

The Captain grinned. All over the Hall there were the pleas of the young women to leave them alone, but they were only answered by pinches and bites at the neck and down to their pink nipples.

Trinian lay sprawled out on the King’s Throne. He wore the huge crown awkwardly, waiting for the smiths to make him a different one. He was rubbing his temples, the noise was too much for him at times.

“Gormak.” The usurper called over the Corsair Captain.

“Yes, sire?” Gormak bowed.

“Stop this insufferable rabble rousing, I need to think.” Trinian shot daggers at the men in the room.

“As you command, m’ lord.” Gormak turned towards his men, “Alright you dirty rat maggots keep it quiet or go somewhere else and rut.” He shouted.

Trinian rolled his eyes, the Captain shouting made his headache even worse. He needed a distraction…

He looked over at one of the girls, blonde haired and fawn-eyed, caught between three burly sailors. Trinian stood up, the men got quiet, the King suavely walked over to the trembling girl. He waved his hand.

“Release this poor creature.” He said delicately.

Reluctantly the men grabbing a hold of her torn dress let go. The girl pulled up her sleeve sheepishly.

“Oh, no need to do that, darling,” Trinian smirked, touching her bare shoulder lightly, “Just go back there into my quarters and you’ll see how a King treats a woman.” He liked seeing the girl stutter her breath, she seemed frozen, “Go,” He ushered her along, “Before I get impatient. Wouldn’t want a King waiting now would we?”

“N...n...no, m...m...m’lord.” The girl said, her voice a soft squeak of fear.

Trinian grinned like a wolf watching a lamb, “Good.”

He watched her walk away slowly, looking at the shape of her hips, wondering what it’d feel like to slip in between her legs and…

“Lord Trinian.” Someone interrupted his thoughts.

Trinian exploded, “That’s King to you! Pathetic worm!”He rounded on an elderly woman, “How dare you mispronounce my title!”

“With all due respect, sir,” The old woman narrowed her eyes, “There is no King, only a Queen. But she is deathly ill and has requested you.”

Trinian smoothed his hair, “My sister’s worthless pups are dead and gone, and she’s in no state to rule,” He grabbed the woman's arm with strong harshness, “Therefore I will be addressed as KING.” He let her fall. He removed his crown and smashed it in the old woman’s face.

He walked calmly into the back of Meduseld.

The entire left side was blown apart (by a perfected mix of what Saruman had originally used on Helm’s Deep, which Trinian personally saw was effectively deadly before using it on his sister’s home) and was being boarded up with wood from the beams that fell in the explosion. Queen Thrissen had been moved to the servants quarters, and Trinian saw that he got the King and Queen's room. Down the narrow stairs he went to see his sister.

Thrissen's loyal servants had seen that the Queen was comfortable and safe, they watched her day and night to see that her wound was cleaned and her fever eventually broke. But the Queen surely was a sight. Her once dark red hair sported a plethora of grey and it stuck to the side of her sweating face.

Her blurry blue eyes opened slightly when she caught sight of her brother.

“Trin…” She spoke softly.

“Thrissen,” He grabbed her hand gently, “You need to rest so you can get better, dear sister.”

“Where are my babies?” Thrissen asked, shaking her head to look around the room.

“Oh,” Trinian said sadly, “Unfortunately, Eòfan hasn’t been seen, he tried his best to defend us against the Wild Men, but…”

Thrissen started to gush tears, “And my Triswyn?”

“Dead, my lovely sister. She was caught in the explosion.” Trinian said gently.

The Queen was distraught, her body shook in waves of grief and she cried out the names of her children, “My poor darlings!” She cried, “My sweet babies!” Her ribs hurt from her shaking.

“Oh, sweet dear sister,” Trinian moved her hair from her face,” Don’t worry, I’m doing the best I can to rid these scoundrel from Rohan.”

“My baby brother,” Thrissen said, holding her deathly cold hands up to his face, “Such a good sweet brother.” Her strength failed her and she fell back onto the pillows and passed out.

Trinian threw her hand off of his face and looked at the servants, “If any of you breaths a word that the Princess may be alive, I will kill all of you.” He put his crown back on, then walked back upstairs.

The usurper opened the doors to his room, seeing the young woman there holding her torn sleeve up to her chest.

“Show me those pretty pink nipples of yours,” He said, watching the girl bare her buxom breasts, “Now take that thing off and open your lovely legs for the King.”

He closed the doors behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Thrissen tossed and turned in her feverish stupor, her cheeks were flushed and sweating and her eyes burned when she tried to open them. The arrow wound in her leg was beginning to fester, all of the proper medical supplies needed were either blown up in the attack or stolen.

Thrissen's ladies in waiting were distraught. The elderly woman that Trinian struck came over to the Queen, a large black bruise adorning her forehead. She set a cool cloth on the Queen's face, running it over her burning cheeks She spoke in a soft murmur, whispering to the Queen in a low hum.

“Asingan onnupan lagustream, fea engel,

Heolstor þeaw findan ge þider,

Faran feor ond brad, fea engel,

Gan for-wel ge cunnan gemætan.”

Thrissen's body began to settle and she began to breath in gentler rhythms. The old woman dipped the cloth in more cold water and set it upon the Queens head. She looked to the two younger servants girls, eyes wide with fright.

“The Queen will need a new dress when she wakes.” She told them quietly.

The two girls scrambled to gather whatever Trinian threw down to them when he took the King’s chambers to find a dress worthy of the Queen.

The old woman looked sadly back at the Queen, she hummed again, wondering what it was the Queen was indeed dreaming.  
  
 _“Come on, Thrissy, we’ll miss the wave!”_

_Thrissen looked up from her book to see her twin sister about to run into the sea. She smiled and threw her book down onto the sand, kicked off her shoes and ran to meet Thrinis._

_“I’ll race you!” Thrissen cried as her feet met the sweet cool water of the Bay of Belfalas._

_Thrinis ran into the water with her sister, both girls giggling as their toes sunk into the mud. Both were out in only their under dresses, watching the sunset hide behind an oncoming wave. They turned around and swam as the wave came onto them and they were swept away as though surfing it._

_When they were pushed back to shore they were giggling uncontrollably, holding their wet stomachs and lying in the sand._

_Thrinis grabbed Thrissen's hand and looked at her, “We’ll do this forever, right?”_

_“Forever,” Thrissen sat up, “Until we’re both old and grey and even when our cats give us no pleasure.”_

_Thrinis giggled, her smile as sweet as her temperament. She sat up and set her head on Thrissen's shoulder, “What if we get married?”_

_“Married?” Thrissen scrunched her nose, “Why on earth would I do that to myself?”_

_“Because mummy would tell you to.” Thrinis punched Thrissen's arm, “Miss-Do-What-She-Says-All-Of-The-Time.”_

_“Thrin,” Thrissen glared at her sister, “The only reason I would ever get married was because there is a man out there who is tough enough to handle me.” She set her hands on her hips and pursed her rosy lips._

_Thrinis cackled, “Which is no man in Middle Earth.” She shot up from the sand and ran towards their home._

_Thrissen rolled her eyes and started to run after her. She raced off of the beach (grabbing her book) and ran up a set of wooden stairs that led up to the back part of their father’s castle. It was a high stone building constantly being weathered by the sea and wind, a truly beautiful building with large blue banners with a swan in front of a ship. Seagulls were always a constant guest in Dol Amroth, as were the occasional seals landing on the rocks to sun themselves._

_The back part of the castle was hidden and fecund with ivy all about the stone walls._

_Thrissen followed her sister through the secluded maze. Giggles skipped around from stone to stone and it was a wonder that nobody could hear the two running into the castle. Thrissen's orange tabby cat, Pippin, lay on a beam above the storage room where the Princess’ entered. Thrissen snatched him and ran up into the kitchens. Thrinis stole a couple of apple pastries and the two sisters made their way up the servant stairs and into the hallway where their rooms were. The second door they came upon was Thrissen's room, so Thrinis flung the door open with a pastry hanging out of her mouth._

_When Thrissen came upon the door she could see her sister staring at their mother._

_“Hello, darlings.” Queen Aeryssin spoke softly, her gentle white hands clasping a yellowed scroll._

_The Queen was a gentle woman with strawberry hair lined with lighter grey tones. She was smaller than both of her girls and was said to be descended from a strayed line of Brandybucks, but it was only rumor. Her small stature added to the image of her sweetness as well as her soft wrinkles that appeared when she smiled, which was almost all of the time._

_“Hi, mummy.” Thrissen curtsied, sand fell from her soaked dress in clumps. Thrinis took a large bite from her pastry and swallowed it down in a hard gulp._

_“Did you enjoy your swim?” Their mother asked, sitting down, her grey eyes were wide as she observed her daughters standing in wet under dresses caked with sand._

_They both nodded, hanging their heads as if they were in trouble._

_Aeryssin looked at the scroll, “I would like you to know that we are receiving a guest tomorrow evening,” She spoke quietly, “One King Edmìr of Rohan.”_

_“Rohan?” Thrissen grimaced._

_“Yes, your father expects us to make our home welcoming to him and his soldiers.” Aeryssin stood up, handing the scroll to Thrinis, “I don’t expect you two to keep manners for long, but do so at least while he’s here.” She said gently, her eyes shining brightly, “Now good night you two.” She walked out in a whisper._

_Thrissen heard the door snap shut behind her and she groaned obnoxiously._

_“Oh come on, Thrissy.” Thrinis rolled her eyes, “It’s only one dinner.”_

_Thrissen shrugged off her dress, Thrinis turned around and blushed._

_“One dinner,” Thrissen mocked, baring her young breasts to the cold, as she wiped the sand off of her body, “That’s what they said about the last lord that came here, and he was here for a month.” She complained._

_“But Rohan, Thrissy.” Thrinis swooned, “A lot of strapping Kings come from that line.” Her lips curled into a dream-like smile._

_“Oh gag me, Thrinis,” Thrissen spat, going into the smaller room to start up her nightly bath, “The only things that are from, Rohan are big, stupid, barbaric men that think all they do with a woman is insert themselves inside her without giving consideration as to what pleases her most.”_

_Thrinis’ eyes widened, “Oh, Thrissy, behave!”_

_“No.” Thrissen poked her head out of her bathroom, “And if you don’t like the way I talk then go to your own room.” She slunk back in._

_“Then I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.” Thrinis smiled, shaking her head as she opened the door, “Good night.” She called, shutting the door after she heard her sister tell her the same._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lullaby translation, it's pretty rough so I don't need your judgement.
> 
> “Sing about the river, little angel,
> 
> Darkness won’t find you there,
> 
> Travel far and wide, my angel,
> 
> Go so you can dream.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please review.


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